Showing posts with label Dallas. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Dallas. Show all posts

Friday, August 14, 2020

Back in Dallas


What's Dallas like in the August of Plague Year 2020? Good question, and I drove to the Metrosprawl to find out. First things first, it's really hot, like an oven. The kind of heat which makes even the coolest perspire. Think FBI Koup Konspirators in the face of Clinesmith.

Oh dear, Nemesis meet Hubris and we have to ask, what kind of plea deal has corrupt lib lawyer Clinesmith cut by way of survival? Time will tell and Comey, Clapper, Brennan et al seem mighty quiet right about now. No wonder, the heat's on. 

But Ma LSP's place is refreshingly cool. The garden flourishes, flags wave along with refreshing drinks and a newly cleaned 19th C runner. I think it's Caucasian, but I've forgotten my rug lore. Whatever, out it popped. Nice.

And there you have it. We're off to a friend's ordination tomorrow morning. Well done, MR, you're a brave man to answer the call at this point in time.



Thursday, July 23, 2020

Utter Total Disaster


What started off as a pleasant trip to Dallas for a late birthday celebration turned into unmitigated disaster. Sure, it began well, easy traffic for the most part, enormous steaks, convivial company. All well and good.


Then, after everyone had gone to bed, it seemed like a good experiment to pour a glass of claret on the technology. Give it a go, see how it works, no rule. Maybe it'll even help your machine. 


It didn't in my case, the recently upgraded if ancient ASUS started to smoke when the power was on. Huh. Fail. So I drove back to the Compound, got the Blue in situ, then drove to Waco for another machine. 

I won't lie, it was weird to see masked paranoia in full force and I hated it, but there was a gently used laptop at one of the few remaining "Best" Buys and I took it home.


The sleek little beast's sitting here now, backlit keyboard and everything. Ma LSP says, "That was an expensive glass of wine." I won't enlarge further.

Fall To!

Back up your data if you have any worth keeping. And oh, while you're at it, crush the NWO underfoot.



Wednesday, May 27, 2020

Memorial Day Remembrance

Sirens, pounding rain, people driving their rigs off of I35 and up the verge of the highway onto service roads, a car on fire on the median, one pickup flipped over, an Escalade smashed all to hell, a couple of broken sedans, fire trucks, squad cars, mayhem. 

It was like Wiking's retreat to the Oder, but no, this was just the road into Dallas on Memorial Day weekend.

Highway to Hell notwithstanding, we had a good party at Ma LSP's in Dallas. Burgers, hot dogs, patriotic cake and all the rest.  Great fun, and I foolishly stayed up into the early hours talking with the aged P.

The next day dawned high and bright, a whole new world replete with tiny dragons, a Heeler, Glocks, flags, leftover burgers and various chores. It felt good and off we went, Blue Scout and LSP, back to the bucolic haven that is the Compound.

All this in mind, it was the first time since March that I'd been to a party, or even the Metrosprawl itself. What was it like? I'll tell you, way more fearful of the Red Death than anything I'd been used to in the country. 

Company at Ma LSP's house excepted, it's all about these weird little masks, shut shops and rules posted on filling station doors, Wear Your Dorky Mask! That said, no one was, at least at the local QT, and neither were we on Memorial Day, along with everyone else on their porches.

Were people dropping like flies with the plague? No, they were not, and my guess is that they won't any time soon. Unless of course we go to war with China, which changes everything. You might pray that doesn't happen.

In the meanwhile, hope you all had a great Memorial Day weekend and prayed for all who gave their lives that we can be vaguely free.  Hold that thought, how free are we? 

Free from the State recording all your calls and internet posts? Free to not get microchipped and wear a mask in some kind of dystopian neo-feudalism? Free to say anything that doesn't go against the will and power of your elite, multi-billionaire overlords? Such freedom. And note this, it hates Christianity.

Whatever, respect to those who gave their lives. May they rest in peace and rise in glory.

Your Friend,


Monday, January 20, 2020

A Gentle Richmond Reflection

A lot of people, to put it mildly, were worried about the 2A demo in Richmond today, including me. 

Would a Deep State asset cook-off and provide the lying, pugnacious, venal, corrupt, hypocritical, elite Media with an excuse to launch a vicious anti-freedom campaign? Would there be some kind of false flag as thousands of heavily armed men and women descended on the Old Capitol of the Cause?

Governor Blackface Northam Father of Lies certainly thought, at least publicly, that there'd be trouble and declared a state of emergency. Maybe, ran leftist rhetoric and perhaps genuine comtard paranoia, gun people would storm the Capitol in a fit of white nationalist supremacism. But no, 25,000 armed patriots turned up, made their point, picked up their trash and went home.

Relieved but not utterly surprised by this happy outcome, I drove to Dallas with Blue Second Amendment. I35 was a beast because of ongoing and perennial roadwork but no one got hurt, not dissimilar to Richmond when you think about it.

Before you could say "an armed citizen's a free citizen" we'd arrived at Ma LSP's place, where a crew of Mexicans were replacing wood, sanding down paint and generally making themselves useful. Well done Mr. Gonzales, give the compound a respray. 

Congrats to the 2A crew today and right thinking Virginians in general. Shoot straight and run Ralph "Minstrel" Northam outta town on a rail, use votes if you must. And have you noticed?

Meghan Markle makes Wallace Simpson look good. No easy task, all hail Sabo.

Gun Rights,


Friday, December 20, 2019

Welcome Home!

The Private flew in from the Army in Georgia today, where he's doing AIT at Fort Gordon. He likes the Army a lot and finds it better than being a bassist in a Scandinavian Death Metal band, awesome as that is.

On the way from the airport to an RV with fast food, the youthful defender of the nation's freedom regaled me with tales of training and poured scorn on our country's enemies in Congress. Seems like the Army's for 45, unsurprisingly.

Then, multiple dollar menu items later we fell back to Ma LSP's redoubt and the kid took a well deserved sleep. The Blue guarded.

I tell you, I'm proud of my eldest son, he's come a very long way. We'll be flying to the land of the ice and snow, Canada, on Boxing Day.

Go Army,


Friday, August 30, 2019

Relaxin' In The 'Sprawl

As Jules points out on her engaging literary site, there's a background sound to Texas. It's mostly cicadas,  their static rising and falling in time to the waves of heat that roll in like air from a hot oven. Not unlike an insectoid alien early warning signal, when you think of it. 

Add in the squawking of ferocious birds defending their territory from barking, predatory squirrels, and the same squirrels hurling half-eaten pecans down on you like nutty shrapnel. You get the picture, a Texan morning in late August, and I enjoyed it, sipping coffee while the sprinkler watered Ma LSP's ferns.

You can say, with justice, that there's many things wrong with the 'Sprawl but her garden isn't one of them, and it's been good to set up here for a few days while she's in England celebrating the Brexit movement. Tranquil, despite the barrage of pecan nuts raining down like shells on the Chancellery of the doomed Reich.

To escape the barrage I drove to my favorite ghetto barber, which used to be called Senor Ramone's, they call him "Ramen" for some reason, and now goes by a different name altogether. 

A few years back someone went in for a haircut, had the cut, left, returned, and shot a barber stone cold dead. The shooter then fled the scene of the crime only to be gunned down (or was he  just arrested?) by Dallas PD in the alley behind the shop. None of the staff seemed particularly phased. I know, I asked them at the time.

Haircuttery over, return to base and stand in awe as a brisk wind kicks in, clouds roll over and it begins to rain. What is this, Skywater? And why did I water everything in the smothering heat of the morning? Must get more and better Weather Shamans.

Back to the country tomorrow. Blue #4 is nesting in front of the sink, curiously.

Be good,


Tuesday, May 21, 2019

Storm Grill Army

Keen-eyed readers of this deep thinking mind blog will know that my eldest son, popularly known as "the Cadet", made the smart decision to join the US Army instead of a Scandinavian death metal band, in Canada. 

Don't get me wrong, both are good, but the Army probably makes more sense. So what's the score?

Typical Climate Change

Longish story short. The Cadet bravely ventured forth to a Dallas recruiter, got his packet made up, took a language aptitude test (D-Lab) at the Military Entrance Processing Station (MEPS) downtown and... the Army discovered he had to complete some extra paperwork before he could do his physical. 

Annoying but not a huge deal, so we fell back to the Compound and enjoyed the countryside and its storms. Yes, hail storms and the kind of climate change that says tornado, take cover. We took the opportunity to stand on the porch and watch it come down. Exciting, in an Ahab brave the elements kind of way.

Metrosprawl Compound Grill Scene. Note Mary Shrine

Then, papers complete, headed to the Metrosprawl to grill, celebrate a nineteenth birthday, and launch the kid at MEPS again. I dropped him off at the recruiters' this afternoon and they drove him to his date with destiny, but not before we spent all of yesterday getting his ears cleaned. 

What?!? You say in that shocked tone of voice. Yes, ears cleaned, that's because the quacks at MEPS turn people away if they have too much wax in their ears. 

Have to see all of the ear drum, you see, and if they don't the unfortunately waxy child has to leave MEPS, see an an Army sanctioned ear shaman for a 5 minute ear scrape that could've been done at MEPS, and then return to MEPS, mission complete.

Does that reek to you of low-level, bit part skulduggery? It does to me, and imagine how much money someone's raking in from all those ear wax referrals. It'd soon mount up to a nifty shamanic faux mansion somewhere in Plano.

Regardless, the boy's now in the caring hands of Uncle Sam and, all things equal, should pass his physical tomorrow. If so, in a couple of weeks off to Basic, and I respect that. 

Good call, kid, and his plan's simple if not easy. Go Signals, get a degree, get a commission, get a sword, and then set up on some compound, grill, and play Scandinavian death metal.

Good luck with all of that, Cadet, and with MEPS tomorrow. Stay tuned. 

Oh what a carry on!


Wednesday, December 5, 2018

Tree Wrangling

In the olden days, which I can just remember, you didn't decorate your tree until Christmas Eve but that's changed now. We went looking for trees in Dallas on Monday with a view to getting the job done. 

First stop? Lowes, and I'll be honest, their selection was rubbish. Home Depot was better and we found a tree without too much hassle; a bit on the small side but it'd do. 


Back at HQ the tree went obediently into its stand and there it was, a Christmas tree in a stand, looking annoyingly short. "I have to say, it looks a bit dam short," I told Ma LSP, who suggested we raise it on some kind of platform. But we didn't, the Angel would make it taller perhaps.


It helped, along with lights and ornaments which glittered and gleamed like Christmas is supposed to do. Blue ADC did his bit to help, which mostly involved sleeping at guard and that seemed homely and somehow reassuring. 

All Lit Up

Dog and Christmas tree, sort of thing. A few hours later the tree seemed pretty much there, so we moved outside and lit up the front.

Getting There

Good work and well done, team, you've put up Christmas or most of it anyway. Mission accomplished, we fell back to the kitchen and celebrated the victory. For Blue Voracious that meant treats, well deserved. 

And that readers, all six of you, is the story of that. If you're a Puritan you'll disapprove because you think Christmas, when we celebrate the birth of Christ, is pagan, popish idolatry. Long story short, no, it isn't.

God bless,


Sunday, May 6, 2018


Friday dawned dark as Llandrindod Wells in June, with thunderheads glowering above. Then it started to rain like a Weston Super Mare Bank Holiday and that continued until we got on the road for Dallas. Such is the apocalyptic nightmare of climate change.

Weston Super Mare

By the time we got to Dallas we were half a million strong, thanks a lot, I35, but the air was crisp and clean and the sky clear and blue. Sorry, Chicago, I know it's not fair but that's just the way it is, you need to pay a steeper weather tax.

A Typical Etonian

We set up for Ma LSP's birthday party, which went famously and didn't stop until the next evening; good work, team, stay at it. And you may not know this, but champagne with a little orange juice is a traditional Cinco de Mayo drink. Some find it goes well with beer, others don't, there's no rule.

Party over, we headed back to the rural elysium of the Compound and got ready to worship on Sunday.

As I type this dispatch from the Southern Front of the War on Weather, Pedro and Maria are powering out Mexican music in the back yard, peacocks shriek, roosters crow, something Mexican's on the grill and God is in His heaven.

Fishing's most definitely on the schedule tomorrow, maybe a shoot too. Can you have too much of a good thing?



Thursday, April 12, 2018

Road Warrior

C'mon kid, let's roll, which roughly translated means, hurry up, we're walking to school with the dogs via the Pick 'n Steal for coffee and I don't want you late.

Soon enough we were over the start line and heading for the Shamrock, staffed by Nepalese, thank you very much and mind the kukri, with Friday gamboling along like a puppy and Blue following at a more sedate pace.

Blue Valhalla's getting on in years and someone's been stealth feeding him when I'm not looking, so he's getting a bit portly. This isn't fair on the furry protector and means I'll have to put a lock on his feed bin or maybe a sign, "DON'T OPEN THIS. IT WILL EXPLODE AND DESTROY YOU."

Coffee, school, and dog walk objectives reached, I relaxed on the front office porch and thought about the effect of various bullets on my YETI mug; a range day's obviously in order. Then, Daily Office said, I drove to Fort Worth down good old I35W.

It's not a bad drive until you get to the metrosprawl, then it's a nightmare. What evil satanic geniuses convinced the American public to live in vast plastic sided suburbs, intersected by highways roaring past decaying strip malls. It's bad enough now, imagine the future.

One day the plastic will sag, decay, and fall, leaving square miles of chipboard houses to quietly implode back to nature while the highways collapse; the sheer slum of it will challenge all but the bravest explorers. Remortgage that, I dare you.

Regardless, I made it to the clergy day at Holy Apostles and very edifying it was too. Bishop Iker gave a good presentation on the state of the litigation against the Diocese and Dr. Stephen Noll talked about marriage. 

After lunch, I headed back to the compound, picked up the kid, drove him to work, drove back to the Compound, drove to Lake Whitney to say Mass and watched a film because it was the church's film night.

We watched the Gospel of John, which is just that, the Gospel of John narrated, with actors doing their thing in the background. I love John's Gospel. Then, kid being delivered to the church, it was time to brave TX-22 and get back to base.

The dogs were excited to see us. The pack was back, and I tell you, several hundred miles worth of driving aside, it all made for a good break from watching WWIII unfold in Syria and the slow moving coup against the President.

I file this exciting story under "road warrior."

God bless,


Tuesday, December 26, 2017

Boxing Day MAGA

Have you noticed how much better Christmas was this year, as though a cloud of MillSoc (Millionaire Socialist) oppression had lifted from the land? We certainly did here in the Metrosprawl; no complaints.

The kids, who won't be kids much longer, woke up to stockings that included micro drones and almost fell over themselves with excitement. Thanks, LL, for the inspiration. Then we drove to Dallas to celebrate with the rest of the family.

I got a MAGA ornament to go with the PSG (Presidiential Snow Globe), which was pretty uplifting and some neat unicorn paraphernalia. Be magical, it tells us. Hard not too with America's popular and glamorous First Lady in the White House. Seriously, think of the alternative.

Nasty, right?  Unlike the neat boxing robots I got the kids. Perhaps you remember them from the '70s, Rock 'Em Sock 'Em; who knew these fighting 'bots were still being made. Perhaps they weren't and now they are, thanks to tax reform and putting America first.


With that in mind, all the best for the Feast of St. Stephen and as always, MAGA.

Happy Boxing Day,